


in azure, written twice

by orbitalknight



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: M/M, Meeting the Parents, Slow Burn, World Travel, idiots to lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:55:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27165554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orbitalknight/pseuds/orbitalknight
Summary: Two former Azure Dragoons, now aught but a pair of traveling lances. From Tailfeather to Gyr Abania and twice circling Coerthas they had traveled, tasked with finding the mother of a dragonet.(Contains spoilers for DRG 60-70 quests.)
Relationships: Warrior of Light/Estinien Wyrmblood
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13





	in azure, written twice

**Author's Note:**

> three things to note before we start:
> 
> one- this fic makes references to etienne's background, which can be found on his lodestone profile here: https://na.finalfantasyxiv.com/lodestone/character/30250148/#profile
> 
> two- it also follows this piece in terms of chronology, and a few things that happen are mentioned: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26337454 
> 
> three- i mentioned minor canon divergence in a different work about these two. the same applies to this one, and the subsequent chapters i intend on posting. don't worry! etienne is not ditching his responsibilities, he's just, uh, prioritizing them differently.

“Have you ever visited the Far East?” 

Estinien had only been half-listening to the conversation. It was bad enough that Etienne had insisted he come along to the Observatorium, but he had no intention of making small talk with Ser Alberic, and that meant he would be keeping his distance. 

Still, he couldn’t help but be surprised by Etienne’s enthusiastic reply to the senior dragoon’s question. “Yes, I have! Lived there, even, for some small number of years. Kugane in Hingashi, to be specific.” 

Both Alberic and the dragonet that was flapping about beside him seemed somewhat taken aback. “I had assumed you were well-traveled,” Alberic cleared his throat, “But you don’t hear of many who claim such familiarity with the region, save pirates and merchants. Perhaps fate works in our favor! Though I fear you may still be making the journey without Orn Khai here...” 

The dragonet puffed himself up, giving a few dedicated flaps to increase his unimpressive elevation. “ _How do you expect him to find a dragon without another dragon to lend his aid, exactly? I like not the chances!”_

“That may be less arduous a task than you estimate, Orn Khai.” Alberic looked pointedly in Estinien’s direction, “But I will see what I can do. Allow me but the time to ponder, and I am certain I can devise a solution.” 

“Understood,” Etienne nodded, adopting a thoughtful posture, “If I can go the same way as before, I may know someone with the means to secure our passage to Kugane, at the very least. I will keep you apprised of the situation after I have spoken with him.”

“Much appreciated, Etienne,” Alberic gave a Temple Knights salute, “Keep your lance sharp. And my thanks for looking after my wayward student in the meantime.” 

If Alberic had glanced once more at Estinien, he did not see it. He had turned his gaze towards the snow-covered ground and intended to keep it there as long as possible. A tap on his shoulder shifted Estinien’s attention slightly higher, to Etienne, who now stood beside him. 

“I should like you to meet the man with whom I intend to speak, if you do not mind accompanying me.” Etienne said, and his yellow-gold eyes were, as ever, painfully earnest. 

Estinien was eager enough to leave the Observatorium, not that he had ever intended to refuse the journey. He shrugged. “I’ve no outstanding engagements. Lead on.” 

Etienne clapped his hands together, face alight with a smile. “We make for Costa Del Sol! I believe the fastest route may be airship via Mor Dohna. Shall we, then?” 

Estinien nodded. “Might I ask as to the identity of this man you hold in such high esteem?” 

“Oh!” Etienne’s eyes went momentarily wide. “He is... my father. Benne Penne.” 

For the first time since the chirurgeons had pried it off his head, Estinien missed the comforts of his helm. He could not hide his expression any more than he could bury himself in the snow and lie there indefinitely, which seemed a tempting course of action. 

He very well may have, were it not for Etienne’s visible excitement. Estinien had not been oblivious to how his chest had seized up in viewing the smile that had broken across Etienne’s features when he had agreed to the journey. 

The Fury take these godsdamned feelings. 

***

Etienne had met him in Sohr Khai. 

It was the last stop of Estinien's tour, which had also included Ferndale, Azys Lla, and a hill near the Steel Vigil. He had attended the dead in each location, though some he’d known better than others. At Sohr Khai he had said what few words he could for Ratatoskr herself, the yawning chasm of Nidhogg’s grief in the periphery of his own feelings. The gesture had been rewarded by Hraesvelgr, not only in draconic words but in the gift of a set of blessed armor. Estinien had scarce had time to try on the mail and put a name to it before a voice had rung out across the ruins. 

Before he had left Ishgard, Estinien had agonized over a letter to Etienne. In his time in recovery, the other Azure Dragoon had been his near-constant bedside companion. This arrangement had been at Estinien’s request, though his own reasoning eluded him beyond the fact that he enjoyed Etienne’s company. He had never considered himself gifted with the written word; Aymeric had more than once chided him at the terseness of his field reports. Still, he had managed to put to paper the details of his intended destinations. _And if you should like to join me,_ he had written, _I shall be glad of the company, and refrain from challenging you in single combat._ With the letter, Estinien had included a single sprig of lily of the valley blooms, as Etienne had once idly remarked upon them being his favorite. He hadn’t expected aught to come of it. As a Warrior of Light, Etienne had his responsibilities by the battalion, not the footsolider. 

But the voice was unmistakable, the same as the sound of heeled boots against stone tile. “ _Estinien!”_

And there stood Etienne Penne, bedecked in his familiar white shirt and suspenders, blue flannel knotted ‘round his waist. In his hair, tucked behind one ear, the selfsame flowers Estinien had included with his letter. 

Halfway out of breath already, Etienne had closed the distance between them until Estinien could see the redness in his fellow dragoon’s cheeks. “I apologize for my lateness,” Etienne spoke between labored breaths, “There was a matter in Ishgard with which I was assisting and...” he paused, “Does your offer still stand?” 

“My offer?” Estinien found himself puzzled twice-over. 

“To travel with you.” Etienne straightened his suspenders, “If so, I accept!” 

Estinien had stared down at Etienne for more than a moment too long. “You do?” 

“I should like nothing more.” Etienne said, beaming. “If you’ll have me, that is.” 

Estinien briefly considered asking after Etienne’s realm-saving responsibilities, but if the Warrior of Light’s presence was any indication, he had no reason to assume it was not well in hand already. 

Two former Azure Dragoons, now aught but a pair of traveling lances. Or so their partnership had been, for the past moon and a half. Etienne loved the designation of “partner,” and Estinien had to admit he was passingly fond of it himself. Dragoons operated alone, by most reckonings, but if Estinien ever had cause to worry that the hands which held his lance were his own no longer, the fear was assuaged by the presence of one whom he could so readily trust. From Tailfeather to Gyr Abania and twice circling Coerthas they had traveled, tasked with finding the mother of a dragonet. And the nights were easier than Estinien had remembered from his last time on the road. He’d startled from a nightmare on but two occasions. 

The first had been in the woods of the Dravanian Hinterlands. Still unused to the company, he had woken Etienne as he scrambled to pull on his armor, insisting he should patrol the perimeter of their camp for Gnath encroachment. Etienne had moved his bedroll after that, from across wherever they lit their campfire to but a few fulms from where Estinien had laid his own. When Estinien had next bolted upright with the taste of soot on his tongue, his traveling partner had fumbled with a sleepy hand until his fingers found Estinien’s and linked them together. It was a touch made familiar from the infirmary, and Estinien’s heart had slowed from racing to a tired chocobo’s trot before he could even consider letting go. 

Etienne walked a few paces ahead of him now, lance strapped to his back, cheeks red with the cold sting of the Coerthan wind. Every so often he would look back at Estinien, favoring his traveling partner with a smile. Truly, he seemed very excited to visit his father. 

Estinien wondered idly what sort of man Benne Penne could be as they crossed from the Central Highlands into Mor Dhona. What he knew of the man was little; a merchant by trade, now retired, who Etienne owed a debt of gratitude. He knew even less of Etienne’s mother, of whom he was not fond of talking, and Etienne was _always_ fond of talking. 

As they boarded the airship, Etienne settled in across from Estinien, crossing his legs. 

“Is there aught I should know of your father before meeting him, Etienne?” Estinien was not generally interested in starting conversations, but it seemed prudent to ask. He had a feeling as though more than the continuation of their search for Orn Khai’s mother was at stake. 

Etienne sat up a little straighter, pondering the question. “Aught you should know... There is nothing I can think of that would be of particular import, but he is something of a gourmet. So, depending on how long we stay, there might be a good meal in store? Oh, and I’ve told him about you already, of course!” 

Estinien stiffened. “Is that so?” 

“He knows enough not to worry, and not so much as to worry him twice-over. No mentions of life-or-death single combat, should that be your concern.” Etienne smiled wryly. 

Estinien crossed his arms with a “Hmph.” He raised an eyebrow at Etienne, who was still smirking in his direction. 

The journey was not a particularly lengthy one, especially not by the standards of their on-foot travel. They disembarked from the airship at Limsa Lominsa, and chartered a chocobo carriage to the seaside settlement. Estinien had never been to Costa Del Sol, or any of La Noscea, for that matter. He did not mind letting Etienne take the lead. The scenery was almost reminiscent of Coerthas before the calamity, but as they approached Costa Del Sol, the paths became sandier, and the seas stretched out beside them, an azure ribbon as wide as the eye could follow it. 

His traveling partner disembarked from the carriage, worrying at one of the several bracelets on his wrists. For all his excitement, Etienne was nervous. He noticed Estinien’s gaze. “I realized I’ve not seen my father since the last time I needed passage to Kugane. It’s been seven years, Estinien.” 

Estinien knew, or hoped he knew, what needed doing. He reached for Etienne’s hand, giving it an affirming squeeze. “Your father cannot be worse to parley with than Hraesvelgr, can he? You will be fine.” 

The change in temperature must have been affecting Etienne, for how red he was in the face. Still, he nodded, the smile from before returning to his features. “You’re right. You’re right! He is _not_ worse than Hraesvelgr.” Etienne returned the squeeze before letting go of Estinien’s hand. “Thank you. All that is left is to find him.” With one final adjustment to his suspenders, Etienne was off across one of the many wooden walkways between the huts of Costa Del Sol. 

Estinien posted up beneath a centrally located tent near what seemed to be the center of the settlement. It afforded him a decent view of Etienne running back and forth, clearly making inquiries as to the location of Benne Penne. Estinien noted that from his vantage, there were no other Elezen in the vicinity. What a curious sight _he_ must have been, improperly dressed in a long coat and boots in the tall Ishgardian fashion. 

At last, he caught sight of a familiar motion. Etienne, waving in his direction. He raised a hand by way of greeting, searching for Benne Penne. He had to be nearby, but even as Etienne drew near the central hut, Estinien could find none who matched the man in his imagination. For Etienne’s expression, however, the venture could not have been unsuccessful. 

“This is Estinien Wyrmblood,” Etienne was saying, making a motion in his direction. “And Estinien,” Those bright yellow eyes sparkled like candlelight in the oceanside sun, aglow with exuberance once more, “This is my father, Benne Penne.” 

Estinien was confused a moment longer, until he took proper note of where Etienne had motioned. To say it was lower than he anticipated was a grave understatement. 

Benne Penne was a _Lalafell_. 

It wasn’t as though Estinien couldn’t see the resemblance. Benne’s hair was but a few shades darker than Etienne’s, close-cropped, and his eyes were an adjacent golden hue. But seven hells, he was a _Lalafell._ Estinien must have been staring, but by the Fury, how could he not stare? 

Etienne seemed puzzled, but Benne Penne was unfazed. He extended a hand towards Estinien. “Pleasure to meet you, Estinien. As my son tells it, you’re aught but his favorite Ishgardian. That’s no small feat, you know!” Benne chuckled, and Estinien was vaguely aware of Etienne making some protestation, but he was wholly occupied attempting to process all that was Benne Penne. 

Estinien had to kneel down to return the handshake. Gods, he could already feel a neck cramp in his future. Benne was appraising him, that much was obvious, but Estinien could not gauge by what criteria. 

“Father,” Etienne was speaking, saving Estinien from fumbling out a greeting, “I know it has been far too long, but I am sorry to say I did not come just to visit...” 

“So I gathered,” Benne was still looking at Estinien, “And not just to meet your _partner,_ either, I wager?” 

“I, er, no...” Etienne was completely red in the face, back to fiddling with the string of beads around his wrist, “Though I am happy to have introduced you, and I should like it very much were we to enjoy a meal together...”

Estinien cleared his throat, confident he’d regained his wits enough for a timely rescue. “We seek passage to Kugane. Etienne suspected you might have a means in mind.” 

“Oh!” Benne nodded thoughtfully, “Back to Kugane, is it?” he turned to Etienne, who nodded, expression a little less tense than before. 

“Yes,” Etienne managed, “We’re seeking a dragon who we believe may be residing in the Far East. So I’m not running away from anything this time, you understand. Toward it, actually.” 

Benne nodded again. “I may have a friend or two with the East Aldenard Trading Company who would be willing to oblige you. Not cheaply, mind you, but I’ll be damned if I can’t get you a fair price.” 

Etienne clapped his hands together. “Really? That’s excellent news!” He glanced at Estinien, “We’ll have to tell Ser Alberic, but first...” Etienne turned his attention back to Benne, “About that meal?” 

The Lalafellin man chuckled. “Time has not dulled your palate, I hope!” 

Etienne insisted that it had not, and Benne Penne set about his preparations for their dinner, leaving Estinien once again alone with Etienne. While his traveling companion seemed to have mostly recovered from his earlier embarrassment, Estinien could not rightly say he had ever seen Etienne so flustered before. 

“I am sorry meeting my father came as such a shock to you,” Etienne spoke without meeting Estinien’s gaze, “I did not realize that you did not... know.” 

Estinien frowned. “Did not know what?” 

Etienne did look at him now, an altogether baffled expression on his face. “That my father is Lalafellin? Oh, mayhaps you thought it was my mother’s side of the family that was Plainsfolk...” 

“Speak plainly, Etienne.” 

Etienne’s eyes went somehow wider. “I’m not pureblood Elezen, Estinien. It is rather obvious. My height, my ears... I cannot speak more plainly of something that is plain to see!” 

Estinien paused. He had to admit, he had never taken much note of either of the features that Etienne had mentioned. It was inconsequential to the fact that Etienne was the most talented dragoon he had ever met, and clearly height had not mattered in the fight against Nidhogg, nor the matter of a few anatomical differences. 

“Is that of consequence?” He did not want Etienne to take his silence for disregard or disapproval of what had just been said. 

“In some ways it is the only reason I became an adventurer.” Etienne brought a hand up to touch the flowers in his hair, “You do not think it is of consequence?” 

Estinien shrugged. “Not particularly. Though the lance is a wise choice for those wishing to improve their reach.” 

A smile cautiously alighted on Etienne’s lips. “I suppose so.” 

“‘Twas the Lalafell, not that he is your sire, which surprised me. I find their smallness... Intimidating.” This much was true, though Estinien was loath to admit it. He’d met but a small number of their kind, and each time found them altogether disquieting for their fearless living. There were any number of beasts or creatures that would not find a Lalafell even a satisfying mouthful, and yet they waddled on, undaunted. It was terrifying. 

Etienne laughed, and Estinien could nearly forget his own embarrassment for his gladness at the sound. “Well then, does that mean I only intimidate you by half?” 

“By more than half! Surely I need not remind you of the life-or-death single combat of which you are so fond of reminding _me?_ “ 

Though Etienne had already opened his mouth to speak, it was then that Benne Penne rejoined them. “Let’s hope you get along that well after two months at sea, hmm?” He motioned towards the shore, “We’re headed up to Wineport, and I hope you like what’s in season!” 

Etienne nodded towards Estinien, then addressed his father. “I am certain whatever you have selected will be delicious.” 

As they walked, Benne Penne marching ahead at a shockingly brisk pace for the shortness of his legs, the Lalafellin man looked over his shoulder at the two dragoons. “Now then, Mr. Estinien, would you mind telling me how you came by the acquaintance of my Etienne here?” 

Estinien stopped, the question having caught him off guard, an arrow shot from an unknown direction. Admittedly, some of his memories of when he’d been roaming with Eye were muddled. Moreover, he did not have great confidence in his telling of tales, and he doubted the barest details would suffice. “I would not know where to begin,” he said, simply. 

“I might have some idea,” Etienne chimed in, “If you don’t mind me doing the telling, father.” 

Benne Penne shrugged. “I don’t see why not, I suppose.” 

“Ah, good!” Etienne smiled up at Estinien, “Well, it was a cold day in the Coerthas Central Highlands, and I had been sent at the behest of the Gridanian Lancer’s guild...”

**Author's Note:**

> once again i love writing estinien...
> 
> i think the concept of wol/npc meet the parents is great already, and i was really excited to write something, and then oops, planned an entire traveling series after the joke. so look forward to that! 
> 
> these two always end up being soft when i want them to be funny. i can't keep on fighting it. :/
> 
> as always, comments and kudos are very much appreciated!


End file.
